


Talking with God

by crushing83



Series: Snippets and Prompts [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean is uncomfortable, Discussion of kink, Ficlet, Gen, God is against kinkshaming, Sam has already been there, awkward conversation, discussion of porn, first attempt at spn fic, in vague terms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 06:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7966486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crushing83/pseuds/crushing83
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck decides to try to assure Dean that what he likes is perfectly fine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talking with God

**Author's Note:**

> My first (posted) attempt at SPN fic. I had this idea after watching the part where Chuck comments on the contents of Dean's laptop... and it wouldn't shake loose. 
> 
> Advice welcome! I have a couple other fics in the works and any help or constructive criticism would be helpful.

God was watching him. 

Not watching over him, but actually watching him, from across the table and with a contemplative look on his face. 

It was driving him crazy. 

Dean wasn't sure if God---Chuck---was reading his thoughts, enjoying the journey from fuck-the-chick-in-Casa-Erotica-Twelve's-hot and oh-fuck-the-world's-ending-again to what-the-fucking-hell and take-a-fucking-picture-it'll-last-longer, or if he was just timing how long it would take Dean to crack under his quiet scrutiny. It didn't matter. The end result was the same, and Dean was starting to wonder if it would be rude to excuse himself from Chuck's presence. 

Just as he was readying himself to admit defeat and push away from the table, Chuck cleared his throat. 

"Yeah?" Dean said, voice curt and gruff. Then, thinking better of his tone, he winced and added, "I mean, uh, something on your mind, Chuck?"

The other man smiled a little. "You know... I've been thinking about the collection of videos you've been curating on your lap---" 

Dean jumped away from the table, on impulse, as he processed what Chuck was saying. His beer nearly fell, but quick reflexes saved it; clutching it in his hand, he tried to interrupt but found he could barely breathe let alone speak. 

"---top, and I just wanted to say that there's no shame to be found in---" 

"Oh, God, stop," Dean groaned. 

"No, really," Chuck insisted. "It's a perfectly natural thing to want, to want to be... cared for and accepted and---" 

"Chuck!" 

"---I mean, I should know, right? I put it all out there in the world. Maybe not with so many props, but that's a product of the time in combination with some ingenuity on humankind's part," Chuck continued. "But, Dean---" 

"Why are we having this conversation?" Dean asked, barely managing to refrain from cursing at the creator of the universe. "Because I know I didn't bring it up." 

"I felt your shame, earlier, when you took the laptop from me," Chuck said. 

"So?" 

"And I want to help you see that there's nothing to be ashamed of," Chuck said, smiling a little. "Mistress Magda---" 

"Oh, wow, we are not going there," Dean muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. He lowered his hand and pointed at Chuck. "You are not setting me up with your playmate---" 

"She has men and women in her employ who would be more than happy to... show you the ropes, so to speak," Chuck interrupted, a little grin stretching his scruffy face. 

Dean blinked. And spluttered. And waved his arms around. 

"Dean, don't stroke out on me."

When Dean blinked again, Chuck was standing at his side. God was rubbing his back in slow, smooth circles. It was surreal; it did not help his brain process what was happening. 

"Just deep breaths, in and out," Chuck crooned. "I won't make any more jokes." 

"Thanks," Dean grunted. 

"I won't tell anyone, it can stay between us," Chuck added. "But I really think you should explore this side of yourself." 

"You..." 

"It's all perfectly natural. I myself have---" 

"Oh, God, stop. _Please._ " 

"Dean." 

Dean groaned. "I'll consider it if you keep your stories to yourself," he stipulated. 

"As long as you promise me you'll play safe." 

Biting back another groan, Dean nodded. "I'm not going to your lady friend." 

"You don't have to. Just... consider that she'd point you in the right direction, if or when you're ready," Chuck said. 

Dean nodded. Chuck seemed pleased, patting Dean's back in silent reply. 

"I'm just gonna..." Dean gestured towards the room's closest exit. 

Chuck smiled and nodded. He gestured towards the doughnut and coffee still at his place on the table. "And I'm just gonna..." 

"Okay. Good. I... I'll be back in a bit." 

"Okay." 

Dean tried to remain steady, but he knew his control failed once he made it into the hallway and away from Chuck's eyes. Unsure whether he should curse, cry, or cackle, Dean leaned against the wall and waited for the discomfort and surprise to fade. 

"Dean?" 

Sam was a few feet away, looking at him, his eyes wide with concern. 

"Yeah, Sammy, just..." Dean trailed off and snorted. "Just had an odd talk with Chuck." 

"Left you feeling rattled?" 

Dean looked into his brother's face. More than his usual ability to understand, Sam seemed to be projecting sympathy... almost as if... 

"You, too, huh?" 

Sam's face flushed a little. "Yeah. Go walk it off. He doesn't bring it up again, so you should survive." 

As his younger brother patted his shoulder and walked past him, Dean wanted to say several things---"Thanks, Sammy" and "What did he talk to you about?" were at the top of his list---but the words wouldn't come. Instead, he took Sam's advice and walked in the direction of the garage.

A few minutes checking under Baby's hood wouldn't erase the last fifteen or so minutes, but it might distract him long enough to let his pulse settle back into a normal rhythm.


End file.
